


AWOL

by flowerslut



Category: Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: Gen, Identity Reveal, Mild Blood, Mild Language
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-12
Updated: 2016-06-12
Packaged: 2018-07-14 17:36:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,079
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7183598
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/flowerslut/pseuds/flowerslut
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The wisdom teeth identity reveal that you didn't know you needed. Rated T for a few choice words. One-shot.</p>
            </blockquote>





	AWOL

There were plenty of things Marinette wasn’t expecting to do on her Thursday afternoon off, homework actually being one of them. Despite the deadlines of numerous reports and projects slowly approaching as the year began to come to a halt, a certain temptress named _Procrastination_ had wormed her way into Marinette’s life and was making it so that meaningful productivity was a foreign word to her.

She could almost hear Alya’s nagging words in the back of her mind now, reminding her of the worth of each assignment in terms of grade points…

Marinette subconsciously found herself reaching over and turning her music up.

But, she justified to herself, she still had about a week before the due dates began to strike them one by one. Which was why she found herself, instead of studying, reorganizing all of her sewing materials and fabrics. For the second time that week. (She argued with Tikki that she hadn’t been thorough enough during her first round; she’d forgotten to _color-code_ her fabrics, for goodness sake!)

So, while the last thing Marinette expected to deal with on a Thursday afternoon was actual _work_ , dealing with a bleeding and delirious Chat Noir had also been pretty high up on that list.

It had started with a loud _bang_ and then with some quieter tapping.

When the initial noise had reached her ears she’d straightened up from her position on the floor to exchange a look with Tikki.

“What was that?” Fabrics and string left abandoned on the ground, she jumped to her feet, eyeing the trapdoor above her bed. The noise had undoubtedly come from her balcony, and ever since she became Ladybug a couple years ago she’d found herself more sensitive to loud noises than she cared to admit.

Just last week someone had dropped their textbook to the ground on accident during a quiet moment in class. The noise had been enough to force her to jump to her feet, taking a fighting stance out of habit and successfully embarrassing herself thoroughly enough that even now thinking of the day made her squirm.

Tikki was already peering through the window, attempting to get a good view of the source of the noise. “I think one of your plants just fell,” she reported a bit sadly.

Muttering a small swear under her breath she quickly flew up her stairs to her bed before throwing the trapdoor open and hoisting herself up on the small patio. And indeed, smashed on the ground was one of her poor plants.

“Great,” she muttered, walking over to the shattered clay pot and crouching to poke at the mess, “of course it had to be my lavender.”

Tikki was on her shoulder in that moment, giving her a reassuring pat on the cheek. “At least it seems okay. A new pot and some more dirt, and it will be good as new.”

“Yeah, probably.” Marinette agreed, managing a small half-smile before refocusing her attention back toward the clutter. Brushing shattered clay and spilled dirt aside, she was careful as she picked up the stems of the flower, trying her best to be gentle and keep the roots in one piece.

That’s when she heard the tapping.

It started softly. Just a few taps before silence took hold again. Marinette lifted her head, looking around for a few seconds before dismissing the noise and returning her attention back to her plant in need.

Then it got a bit louder.

“What is that?” She mumbled quietly, more to herself than to Tikki.

The kwami fluttered around a bit, peering over her balcony before actually _squeaking_ and flying straight back into Marinette’s bedroom.

“Tikki, what—“

“I have to _hide_!” The kwami exclaimed in a quiet voice, peeking back out through the trapdoor with wide eyes. “It’s _Chat Noir_!” And with that explanation, she’s gone again, flickering back into the bedroom to hide in one of her many spots.

Marinette blinked to herself a couple of times before standing straight and rushing to the far side of her balcony. Indeed, peering into her bedroom window, holding onto the bars to keep himself upright, was Chat’s unmistakable mop of blonde hair. She watched for a moment, shocked into stillness, as he lifted a gloved hand and reached out, tapping on her window, _louder_ this time.

“Chat!” She hissed, leaning down toward him, “what are you _doing_!?” The last thing she needed is her parents to see one of Paris’ superheroes knocking on her bedroom window. It was bad enough that it was broad daylight and _anyone_ could see him.

Lifting his head, his green eyes blinked up at her before his face split into a wide grin. There were two things Marinette couldn’t help but notice. First was that he looked _incredibly_ excited to see her. Second, there was blood smeared all over his teeth.

He landed a bit clumsily, steadying himself with his staff as he turned toward her. “Princess!” He grinned at her and—oh yeah, he was _definitely_ bleeding.

“What’s going on?” She asked, suddenly overcome with worry. Was there an akuma attack? She hadn’t received any alerts on her phone; typically either Alya would text her or one of her news apps would send out a warning. “What’re you doing here? Are you alright?”

“Never better!” He waved a dismissive hand at her panic before leaning toward her, “Although I do need your help.”

Marinette blinked at him. He was acting so _strangely_. She was sure her confusion was causing some sort of delay with her reaction timing. “What?” She said dumbly.

“I said—“ his words got cut off when he took a step forward—directly into the mess of broken clay and dirt—and tumbled a bit, almost flinging himself over the edge of her balcony.

“Chat!” Running forward, she grabbed him by the arms, steadying him before looking at his face closely. “What’s gotten into you? You’re _hurt_.”

There must’ve been a villain or _something_ that he was fighting. His face looked swollen and the blood that had previously coated his teeth was beginning to stain his lips red. She was sure it was only a matter of minutes before it began to pour out of his mouth.

“What?” Lifting his clawed fingers to his lips, he pulled his hand back only for his eyes to widen at the sight of his own blood. “I’m bleeding.”

“I—what—yes, you’re bleeding! How did that happen!?” Marinette was about to pull her hair out. How did he not notice? “How hard were you hit?”

“Hit?” He seemed confused by her assumption. “No, I’m not hit. I’m just—“ He paused for a moment as a thoughtful expression came across his face. “My stuff fell out,” he stated bluntly, opening his mouth and popping a finger inside. He wiggled it around before removing it, the finger coated in blood. His eyes widened, “The stuff fell out!” He repeated again, a bit more panicked this time.

Marinette shushed him abruptly, stumbling toward him. She almost placed her own finger against his lips, but upon remembering the blood she refrained from doing so. “You have to keep your voice down. So, you’re _not_ fighting anyone?”

“No foes today!” He exclaimed, righting himself abruptly before giving her a small salute. “Paris is safe and sound! But I need your help.”

Although skeptical, Marinette decided to trust his statement. “ _Okay_ ,” she said, dragging the word out a bit as she glanced behind her. “Here,” reaching out, she grabbed his arm and began to drag him after her, “come on. Just… keep your mouth closed. I don’t want you bleeding everywhere.”

Despite Chat being… well, _Chat_ , he did manage to keep his mouth completely closed after shooting her a tiny tight-lipped smirk. Marinette couldn’t shake the feeling of weirdness that enveloped her as she led him off her bed, down the steps, and toward the chaise in her room.

“This is so weird,” she grumbled to herself from where she stood before him, hands on her hips, looking down at him, “what’s wrong with you? Why are you bleeding?”

“They took them.” He stated matter-of-factly, just as blood dribbled past his lips and onto the front of his suit.

Marinette squeaked, “Okay! No more talking! Keep your mouth closed for a minute!”

Turning around she scurried around her room for a few seconds, grabbing a couple towels, a first aid kit, and a bottle of water.

“Okay,” she spoke as she sat at his side on the chaise, handing him the purple towel, “wipe your mouth—and your suit. I don’t want you dripping all over my room.” It wasn’t an ideal situation, for him to be using one of her favorite towels to clean up his blood, but it was better than it getting on her rug. Popping open the first aid kit, she looked around it quickly, trying to determine what she needed. “Chat, what exactly is bleeding?”

When she lifted her head she found herself gaping at him. He had one of the corners of her towel shoved inside his mouth and his eyes were closed and—was he _purring_?

“What,” she smacked his arm, causing his eyes to reopen abruptly, “are you _doing_?!”

He looked at her, a bit scared for a moment, before his eyes fell to the kit in her lap. Without hesitation he reached over, grabbed the gauze pads, and tore them open. Opening his mouth and letting the towel fall into his lap, he stuck two squares in his mouth, taking a fair bit of time to position them before he looked back up at her and grinned—or at least, tried to.

“Thanks,” he said, his mouth now full of cotton, “that’s the stuff I lost.”

“You lost?”

He nodded, “Yeah, it fell out on the way here.”

“Gauze?”

He nodded again, openly pleased that she seemed to finally be on the same track as him. “Yeah! That stuff! Awful stuff. No room for my tongue. Tastes bad.” For emphasis he stuck his tongue out slightly, letting it rest between his still-bloodied lips. “But I’m here. I need you to get my Lady.”

Marinette blinked at him again, mind still struggling to catch up with what was actually happening right now. “What are you talking about?”

“You know Ladybug,” he said with a slight lisp, as if reminding her of that fact. “You need to call her or email her or however it is you get in touch with her.”

“Uh, why?”

“You gotta.”

“Is the city in danger?”

“No. But you gotta.”

“What? Chat, you still haven’t told me why you’re bleeding. Are you in danger? Did you just bite your tongue really hard? Or hit your head?”

“They _took_ the stuff,” he reached into his mouth and began to pull the gauze back out, “see--?”

“Hey, no! Don’t do that!” Grabbing his hand she just about forced him to place the bloodied cotton back in his mouth. She wishes she had a squirt bottle with her in that moment. The urge to spray his face and firmly say ‘no! bad!’ was all-encompassing.

Chat obliged her, biting back down on the gauze, before grinning and flopping backwards. His head hit her pillows with a quiet _thump_ and he was giggling.

“Ladybug is so wonderful,” he praised, smile evident in his tone despite his odd lisp he currently spoke with. “She’s so pretty and nice and…” he blinked a couple times, turning his head toward her, “how did you meet her again?”

Marinette attempted to swallow the dryness in her throat as she looked away from his green gaze. It was one thing to have Chat flirting with her alter-ego on a regular basis, but to hear him sing her praises to who he thought was simply an innocent bystander was a bit jarring.

“You remember when she asked you to protect me from the Evillustrator? That was the first time.”

“Oh yeah,” he said, waving a hand, “I remember. ‘Cause Nathanael liked you.”

Marinette felt the blush rise to her cheeks. “That’s not—wait, how do you know Nathanael?”

“How do you know Ladybug?” He countered with a laugh still lying on his back.

“I just told you—“ mouth snapping shut, Marinette gave Chat a sharp look, “Are… are you _drunk_?”

“I resent the accusation your honor!” He declared, bolting upright and pointing a finger at her. Upon seeing her shock at his finger pointed so close to her face, Chat dropped his hand and laughed. “I’m not allowed to drink anything out of a straw. And doesn’t that just take the convenience out of it all? Who wants to enjoy their milkshakes with a spoon?” He sounded scandalized at the very idea. “Not me! Might as well just eat nothing but ice cream.”

“What are you talking about?” If he wasn’t drunk then there was clearly _something_ going on. She had never seen Chat act so… uninhibited before. It was moderately concerning, but if she had to admit, it was also quite entertaining.

“Ladybug, that’s what. I need her. Call her for me, or something.”

Now, it was Marinette’s turn to laugh. “Right. Let me just go ahead and roll my giant Ladybug light onto my patio and shine it into the sky. I’m sure it’ll summon her in no time.”

“Great! I’ll be here waiting.”

“I’m kidding, Chat.”

“I’m not.”

She sighed. “It’s not… that easy to get in touch with her,” she chewed on her cheek slightly, trying to think of a good enough excuse. She wanted to laugh at the irony of the situation—that he would come to _her_ of all people to help him get into contact with her alter-ego. “I don’t really have a way to directly contact her.”

Chat groaned, “Major bummer.”

She spared him a sympathetic smile, “Sorry, Chat.”

“S’okay,” he mumbled, flinging an arm over his eyes, “I’ll just tell her later.”

Marinette should’ve left it at that. She should’ve patted him on the shoulder and stood to finish cleaning up her broken plant—something that she was sure at this point had been caused by Chat and his delirious stumbling—or to finish reorganizing her sewing supplies. She should’ve shooed him off, with perhaps a care package of some extra gauze or hell, he could take the towel with him that he’d already bloodied up.

But instead, she did none of those things.

“Tell her what?” She bit her lip, looking away.

He sat up suddenly, eyes open and mouth split into a wide smile. “How much I love her.”

The words were almost expected—she had a feeling and a fear that they’d be _something_ like that—but when she heard them they still took her breath away. He looked so happy just to _say_ it, and she was frozen under his gaze. Eventually she tore her eyes away from his. They were filled with too much love that both was and at the same time _wasn’t_ meant for her.

 _Ladybug_ , she had to tell herself repeatedly, he loves _Ladybug_. Not Marinette.

When he stood and began walking around her room, well, more like stumbling, she forced herself out of her thoughts and to his side.

“Chat,” she hooked his arm within hers, trying to steer him back toward the chaise, “you really shouldn’t be walking around.”

“I’m not walking,” he laughed, “I am _floating_.” Then, dramatically he began making his movements incredibly slow, lifting and moving his feet with exaggerated movements, walking through her room in what appeared to be his interpretation of slow-motion. “I am a cloud and you can’t catch clouds,” he spoke as he disentangled their arms, spinning away from her.

The realization dawned on her just in time to watch him trip over the cord of her sewing machine. The swollen face, the bleeding mouth, _floating on a cloud_.

Chat Noir was high as a kite. And if Marinette could put money on it, she had a growing suspicion as to _why_.

Walking over to him, she crouched down before him just as he sat up, bracing himself on his arms.

“Say ‘ah’,” she instructed, narrowing her eyes at his bloody lips. When he obeyed, she felt the grin widen across her face, “I _knew_ it! You had your wisdom teeth taken out, didn’t you?”

“Nothing wise about teeth that grow in to ruin your smile,” he stated matter-of-factly. “These,” he said, pointing to his teeth, “need to stay looking straight as they do now. Crooked teeth don’t look good on posters.”

Marinette snorted at that. Of course Chat Noir would be worried about how his smile would in look press photos.

Watching him stand up, she couldn’t help but idly wonder about his identity beneath the mask and without the ears. And as she did so, a bit of panic rose within her.

“Oh god,” she stood, grabbing his arm as he attempted to walk further into her room, “someone’s probably looking for you. You’re high out of your _mind_ on—wait, are these even pain meds or is this still the anesthesia that’s wearing off? Oh no, you ran off here didn’t you? What, did you come here straight from the recovery room? Where’s your kwami--?” She eyed his ring, “You need to go home Chat. People are going to notice you’re missing and come looking for you and—you are an _idiot!_ ”

“I am nothing more than a smitten kitten,” he declared, spinning again out of her grip before shooting her a quick wink. “Who needs to see his Lady…”

“And you couldn’t’ve waited until you were, oh, I don’t know, _not_ recovering from oral surgery?!”

“Sometimes love can’t wait!” He declared over-dramatically, still grinning to himself like a moron.

“Haven’t you even heard the quote ‘love is patient’?” She grumbled to herself, mowing over ideas in her head. She could excuse herself quickly, and return just as quickly as Ladybug. That way, she could whisk him off and out of her room and then—and then what? She didn’t know who he was, she had _no idea_ where he lived or how she’d get him to where he needed to be. And it wasn’t like she could just dump him off at any nearby hospitals without forcing him to de-transform first.

God, he was _such_ an idiot.

“Oh,” at the sound of Chat’s voice, she looked up, only to find him looking past her, “oh, _wow_.”

“What?” She blinked, watching with confusion as he strode past her with surprisingly even steps.

Only to stop and stare at her collection of Adrien pictures…

“ _Stop right there_!” She shouted, embarrassment flooding every inch of her body. She didn’t _mean_ to tackle him, but when they both hit the ground, his backside landing almost directly on top of her, she had to quickly scramble out from beneath him. Moving faster than she thought she was capable of without being transformed into Ladybug, she quickly yanked down every Adrien photograph in sight.

Turning quickly, she noted that Chat was still lying on the ground. And when he blinked up at her, she could only glare weakly back at him; she was sure she looked as intimidating as a scolded puppy, her face red and blushing and her lips set in a firm pout.

Then, he began to laugh.

“Chat,” she was next to him on the ground in an instant, “Chat, shut up. _Shut up_ you—you idiot!”

“It seems,” he laughed some more, tears springing to his eyes, “that the Princess has a bit of a crush,” he started laughing even _harder_ than before.

“You will not say another word or I’m going to rip out the teeth that you still have,” she threatened lowly as he slowly pulled himself up off the ground.

“You missed one,” he cackled as he stood, pointing to a framed photo behind her.

With a quick _snap_ , she slammed the frame down, hiding Adrien’s smiling face from sight. “You better start saving up for some dentures,” she growled, not sure she could feel any more embarrassed even if she tried.

He laughed again, her embarrassment seemingly only fueling him. She wanted the world to open up and swallow her whole; there was a _reason_ only her parents and Alya were permitted to enter her room.

Reigning in her horror, she quickly attempted assuring herself. It could be worse. Chat could be friends with Adrien or know him personally. Or Adrien could have seen them himself. See? It could've been _much_ worse.

Either way she was sure Tikki was cringing for her, wherever it was the little kwami was currently hiding out...

"I'm flattered Princess, but sadly my heart belongs to my Lady..."

Marinette blinked up at him, confused. What was he talking about? Flattered? About _what_? The fact that she offered to rip the rest of his teeth out of his jaw?

"You're so high," she deadpanned.

"I think the correct term is tall," he corrected her, entirely serious.

"Oh, my god. I need to get rid of you," she pointed at him, exasperated, "you need to go home! Back to where you belong! This isn't funny!" She quickly turned back to her work space on the ground and picked up her phone. "Maybe Alya can help me..." she thought out loud, struggling to think of a decent course of action as she tapped the device against her chin thoughtfully.

If Chat had just gotten his wisdom teeth removed and was still high off the anesthetic then clearly he had gotten away from... whoever was in charge of him sometime between waking up and returning home. There was a chance that maybe he was thought to be at home in his room in bed sleeping it off. It was a slight chance, but a possibility nonetheless.

That would be the best case scenario.

The worst would be that, delirious and utterly obliterated by the medicine he was on, he'd stumbled away and--in this worst case scenario--publicly transformed to find her. Well, to find _Ladybug_. Same difference, she supposed.

Opening her phone and with a quick check to the Ladyblog, to assure that Chat's identity hadn't been revealed in some haphazard nonsensical post-surgical haze, she was left with a third, more likely option.

Chat had been left alone for a minimum of two seconds and immediately pulled a stupid escape.

Turning to look up at him over her shoulder she scowled to see him still grinning dumbly back at her, eyes flickering between her and her discarded Adrien photos.

"Who exactly were you with before you came here?"

And as if on cue, Marinette's phone began to ring in her hand.

"Don't answer that!" He yelled, the noise surprising her to the point where she jumped, dropping her phone.

"Chat--what the! Don't _scare_ me like that!" She reprimanded, reaching down to retrieve her hand. But when a gloved hand shot out and snatched it out from under her with inhuman reflexes, she found herself blinking slowly at the space where her phone has been resting. "Chat?" And when she watched him scurry several steps away, only to cancel the incoming call, she almost burst. " _Chat!_ "

"What?!" He asked, flinching at the fact that she'd shouted at him. "Don't worry about it!"

"Give me back my phone," she demanded lowly, holding out her hand. Chat shook his head, eyes wide as he stared back at her silently. Her phone began to ring again, and when she watched him cancel the call _again_ , she could feel her already dwindling patience with the situation compound dangerously.

And when the phone rang again, Marinette _dove_ for it.

Of course she should have realized that while she wasn't transformed she had a snowballs chance in hell of actually snatching the phone out of his hands, but that wouldn’t stop her momentum as she flew toward him, arms outstretched, fingers aiming for her phone.

Chat sidestepped her, almost _too_ easily—damn his feline reflexes—and in the time it took her to realize she was heading for the ground, he’d spun, wrapped one arm around her waist, and caught her, mid-air.

Snapping her head up to shoot him the deadliest glare she could manage, her eyes trailed upward only to see him holding her phone high above his head with his opposite hand, far out of her reach but _not_ out of sight.

So when she saw Nino’s name appear on the screen as he presumably called her for the third time, and when Chat swiftly tapped the little red button on her screen with a flawed finger, she nearly exploded.

“Chat Noir,” she growled, her voice dangerously low, “if you know what’s good for you, you will give me my phone.”

“But—“

“If you don’t, by the time I’m through with you not even Ladybug’s Lucky Charm will put you back together.”

Marinette watched as his eyes widened, staring down at her with nervous green eyes. She was not joking anymore and now he could tell.

The phone began ringing again.

She did not lower her gaze. If anything she tried to channel as much rage into her expression as possible. When Chat slowly lowered the phone back down to her, the motion so hesitant she idly wondered if it was truly paining him to do so, she grabbed the phone and immediately answered.

“Nino?” Covering the receiver she glanced back up at Chat and gave him a stern look, gesturing with her head to place her back on her feet. But before her feet were even on the ground, Nino’s panicked voice was bombarding her through the phone.

_“Marinette! Oh finally! I need your help—I already called Alya so I’m sure she’s already mobilized and what-not, so hopefully you can meet up with her or something. Or even if you don’t that’s cool, we can cover more ground that way. It’s not like he could’ve gotten very far. But—wait, you’re not busy are you? ‘Cause I mean like, your parents are so chill, they’d let you help for sure—“_

“Nino,” she said sternly, mind rushing in multiple directions, trying to figure out what on _Earth_ her friend was talking about, “slow down. I—just… what?”

There was momentary silence on the other end of the phone. Marinette looked up only to find Chat nervously standing several feet away.

 _“_ What _?”_ she mouthed to him almost silently, still frustrated with his actions. What Nino was trying to hurriedly talk to her about sounded important; she’d never heard him sound so flustered before.

Chat lifted a gloved finger and held it over his lips, shaking his head, as if pleading with her to remain silent. Frustration overriding her confusion, Marinette strode to the other side of the room, holding one hand over her ear to ensure she won’t miss a single one of Nino’s words.

“Nino? What’s going on?”

He was silent for a few more seconds, _“Shoot, I guess I forgot to include you in that group message. My bad, I could’ve sworn I added you.”_

“Group message?”

_“Yeah, Adrien kind of went AWOL.”_

Marinette paused, blinked a few times, shook her head, and threw Chat a strange look. “What are you talking about?”

 _“Y’know? AWOL? Abandoned his post? Ran off unchaperoned? Fucking_ bailed _?”_

“Wait,” Marinette froze, eyes shooting to Chat’s frozen form, “Adrien’s missing?”

_“Not kidnapped-missing. Er, well uh… probably not. Although actually that’s not entirely impossible since he’s so out of it. But damn is he strong, so I kind of doubt it. Like, he tripped while leaving the doctors and I swear he almost broke my arm trying to steady himself.”_

Nino laughed lightly, as if trying to dissipate any building tension. Meanwhile, Marinette turned the speakerphone on, making it so that Chat could hear everything that was being said.

“My friend is missing,” she loudly whispered to the hero across the room, “and you were trying to keep me from _knowing_ about it?!” She may have only been frustrated before, but now she was borderline furious.

Chat didn’t say a thing, instead he stood there, stiff as a board, awkwardly fidgeting with his tail and eyeing her pile of discarded Adrien pictures guiltily.

_“What was that? Marinette?”_

“Nothing,” she replied quickly, “but I’m a little confused, how do you know he’s missing?”

Fear began to build up inside of her. Had something happened? Over the past couple years she’d learned minor details about Adrien’s strained relationship with his father. Had there been an argument between the two? Had Marinette and their friends failed to see him struggling with home life?

Guilt began to thicken in her throat and tears sprang to her eyes. This couldn’t be happening.

But when Nino let out a tired laugh, she wavered.

 _“Remember? He got his wisdom teeth out today. I think he ran off when I went to go fetch him a milkshake. You’d think he’d be sedated and calm but the guy just wouldn’t sit still. I think that's the only reason his dad let me tag-along, so I could stay with him so he didn't do anything crazy. But when I got back to his room the window was open and he was gone. The idiot jumped out of his_ second story window _. I’m surprised that he’s not dragging himself around with two broken ankles…”_

Marinette never meant to drop the phone, but when it slipped from her grip, her shock paralyzing her, she made no move to catch it or to even retrieve it once it fell against her carpet.

Nino’s voice was still carrying through the room, as if he hadn’t noticed any odd noise, and continued on with his story about how he found Adrien gone.

But she surprised herself when she suddenly stomped out all of her shock, picked up her phone, muttered a quick “I’ll call you right back”, and hurried across the room, hardly stopping in time to keep from running Chat over.

“You better tell me the truth before I rip that ring right off your finger,” she threatened, her voice low and surprisingly steady despite the fact that she could hardly feel her tongue. She wondered if she was the one who was high from surgery. Whether this was all one big hallucination and she’d wake up before she knew it and be in her bed with a sore, gauze-filled mouth.

But she was certain that this was as real as it got.

Chat stood entirely still, looking much more like a child with their hand caught in the cookie jar as opposed to a superhero whose identity had just been revealed. Marinette had to remind herself that he was literally in an altered state of mind in that moment, and she had to react accordingly.

“Detransform.”

He gaped at her, “I—no! Why would I ever—“

“ _Adrien,_ ” she cut him off, the name sounding strange coming out of her mouth while looking into the nearly fluorescent eyes of her partner. When Chat flinched, visibly deflating, she knew it was him. “Seriously. I’m not going to tell anyone. But you’re high and people are _looking_ for you right now. This is serious. If Nino and the others are looking, your father is definitely looking, too.”

“I just—I…” he opened and closed his mouth a few times, as he slouched, folding in on himself, “I just wanted to see my Lady…” and when he started to tear up, it wasn’t just Chat Noir on the verge of tears—her partner, her other half, her best friend—it was also Adrien Agreste—the boy she’d been in love with for years now. Hugging him was the only thing she could think to do in that moment.

“Listen, we’ll talk about this more later. I promise. Just? Detransform so I can call Nino and tell him you’re here. I’m make up some excuse as to how you ended up in my room. But just… listen, okay?”

She hadn’t even released him from her embrace before there was a bright flashing light that enveloped the room. When she pulled away and looked up at Adrien standing in Chat’s place, everything suddenly felt much more real.

“Shit. Okay... Holy shit. Oh wow. This is weird. This is… oh my _god_.”

“You’re not going to tell Ladybug are you?” He asked nervously, still sporting a slightly lisp as he pocked and prodded at the cotton in his mouth with his tongue.

She shook her head, “I’m not telling _anyone_ but just--!” She gestured to him, “Holy _shit_ Adrien! You! I didn’t even! I’m going to need several minutes to process this.”

“I thought you were going to call Nino,” he said, lifting a finger to poke at his bloodied cotton.

“Yes, but—stop it,” she smacked his hand away from his mouth before freezing. That was something that Marinette did to Chat Noir. That was not something Marinette would _ever_ do to Adrien. “I—sorry!”

But Adrien only frowned, claiming “it’s not fitting in my mouth right” before lifting the opposite hand to once more insert into his bloody mouth.

And once more Marinette snatched his hand back down to his side, internally screaming at the fact she was batting Adrien around so nonchalantly. But then again, this was also Chat Noir. And she’d done much worse.

Such as throw him at countless supervillains like a ragdoll, drag him through the rooftops of Paris with her, she’d even knocked him in the head with her yo-yo too many times to count.

She’d also _kissed_ him…

“ _Okay!_ ” She declared, a bit louder than necessary, grabbing him by his wrists and suddenly refusing to look him in the eye. Quickly she dragged him across her room, sat him firmly on her chaise and pointed a finger at him, _still_ not looking him in the eye. “Sit. _Stay_.”

“Where’re you goin’?” He asked, seemingly growing groggier with each passing moment. “Are you gonna get my Lady?”

“I’m going to call Nino, and—“ she paused, “uh, what does your… little thing eat?” She spoke, trying to make it not seem like she knew what she was talking about, despite her own kwami hiding in that very same room. “Ladybug once told me you guys have a fairy thing that needs to eat.”

“Cheese. The grosser the better.” He said, sounding mildly disgusted as he laid himself back on the lounge, seemingly getting comfortable. “If it doesn’t stink, he won’t eat it.”

Marinette swore she heard some irritated mumbling, but the kwami didn’t make an appearance, much to her curious disappointment. As she began to call Nino back, listening to the dull ringing, she lifted her trap door to descend and retrieve whatever cheese they had.

“Hey, Marinette?”

Halfway through the door, she turned back toward Adrien, only to see him lazily lifting his head to look at her.

“Thanks for helping me.”

She managed a smile, despite the slew of butterflies swimming through her stomach. Only one of his eyes were open, his drowsiness from the anesthetic finally beginning to subdue him.

“You’re welcome, Adrien.”

“And sorry for running away.”

She couldn’t help but laugh, “I’d apologize to Nino, and your father probably.”

“Yeah. And sorry about your plant.” He said, closing both of his eyes and laying his head fully on the chaise. “And sorry I saw all your pictures of me.”

Marinette froze in that instant, almost forgetting that she was calling Nino. Several awkward seconds later, it was only the sound of Nino on the other end of the line and his repeated call of her name that pulled her back out of her head.

“I’ll be back,” she squeaked into the room before closing the trapdoor and fluttering down her stairs. Into the receiver, she spoke “I found him. He’s fine, and with me.”

After hanging up the phone, she tried hard to ignore the clear sound of what sounded like Adrien’s kwami laughing himself into stitches in her bedroom above her. If she could die from embarrassment, she was sure her heart would’ve already stopped.

Instead of letting herself fall into the puddle of emotions she was currently flipping through, she smacked herself in the forehead and let out a low, pained groan. Even if school didn’t kill her over the next couple of weeks she was sure maybe this would.

At least she could only hope.

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you enjoyed those 6k words of pure ridiculousness. Not proofread cause I'm a lazy fuck; so let me know if you find any painful mistakes.
> 
> Follow me on tumblr @artsie.


End file.
